


The Flawed Universe Righted

by theonetryingtolive



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetryingtolive/pseuds/theonetryingtolive
Summary: There was a gasp, and Lewis Nixon opened his eyes, looking very much like a man who had come back from the dead.
Relationships: Lewis Nixon/Reader
Kudos: 11





	The Flawed Universe Righted

As a child, Lewis Nixon had often stood before a mirror and tried to make sense of the patches of grey on his chest. One was in the shape of a hand, in a diagonal angle. Then there were small dots of grey, smudged and smattered on one side of the hand, on the other side a longer smudge. It made no sense. He tried positioning his hands in a way that would fit, but the angles were too awkward. Eventually he had given up, convincing himself this was not something that he could figure out on his own. Maybe his soulmate mark was just a mistake.

As he grew, he tried to ignore the patches of grey. One day they would be full of colour, hopefully. Then again, maybe they were a mistake. He had never heard of anyone having smudged soulmarks. Maybe they were flawed because he was flawed. That was the only explanation that made any sense.

The war had come, and he’s done everything his father didn’t want him to do. That is to say, he shipped out. And to make matters worse, and in his father’s own words: ‘To my shame, my son wants to act like a lunatic and jump out of planes!’

Lewis Nixon never forgot how flawed he was. Under the pristine uniform the smudged of grey seemed to burn his skin. Sex was always done in secrecy, with the lights off, and always from behind to prevent his partner from finding out what was wrong with him. He didn’t carry a mark on his face like others did, but he was ashamed of it all the same. He had to take care not to let it show.

It was a constant battle, a constant panic that accompanied him whenever his body was on display. There was also the ache, the dull pain of knowing and not knowing. Of knowing just how flawed he was but not knowing what exactly that meant. Was it a fluke? But no, the universe didn’t work that way.

For Lewis Nixon, the universe worked in a very logical way. He knew where his place was, what he was supposed to do. The only flaw in the logic of the universe was stamped on his chest. Was it a sign of degeneration? Maybe his mark had once been perfect, the way all other marks were, but something in him had changed it?

He was pondering this and other problems when the floor exploded.

—

“Not breathing!” Someone was screaming, and you shoved them aside. You ripped open the shirt, and placed your hands on his chest, pushing down on his chest, your fingers slipping on the bloody skin. One, two, three…

Colour burst from your fingertips, and you watched with astonishment as shapes of colour transformed into flowers, petals and stems, covering a previously grey chest.

There was a gasp, and Lewis Nixon opened his eyes, looking very much like a man who had come back from the dead. His hand touched your cheek, and then he looked down at himself, at the tapestry of colour now forever etched on his skin. His head fell back, exhaustion and pain intermingled with happiness and relief.

“Stay with me,” you said, now checking his pulse, eyes locked with his.

A little smile turned the edges of his lips up, and Lewis Nixon winked at you. In the midst of disaster, he winked at you. “Can’t get rid of me now.”


End file.
